Page 92 of Into the West

And he heard her voice in his mind for the first time, a mental impression of white-hot bronze, dignity, and immense age. But with that voice in his mind, came a real, physical voice, like an enormous brass gong or bell.

“This is abomination.”

She contemplated the Red Forest for several heart-stopping moments more.

“THIS SHALL BE CLEANSED.”

But she didn’t move. Why didn’t she move?

Wait, if she moves—she might wreck this entire area, the way she destroyed the Capital. And she doesn’t want to do that.

As if she understood what he was thinking, she raised her head skyward and let out a challenging roar. It sounded like an avalanche. Molten rock spattered from the roar, falling as lava bombs over the Red Forest, igniting trees.

Kordas was out of the Veil trance, but was still tuned to ambience enough to sense the Forest wavering. Half of it wanted to keep on attacking the humans in their cursed protections, and get to the food. Half of it wanted to go after this new—likely delicious—challenger. He felt the Forest’s hunger . . . and Pebble’s mother was a giant, radiating source of magical energy. They were both Earth Elementals; the Forest knew instinctively that if it fought and vanquished her, it could absorb all of her. Then it could turn back and obliterate the ants that were resisting it now.

“Help Mama!” Pebble cried from behind him, still fiercely radiating magic. “Push! Push!”

Wait, what?

“Push! Push!” Pebble insisted. All Pebble could do was supply power; it didn’t know how to apply power. And Kordas didn’t know what it wanted.

“For fuck’s sake, Kordas!” An exhausted Jonaton stumbled up the stairs behind him. “Are you dazed or stupid? The cute rock means push the Veil!”

Bloody hells . . . Hitting himself in the head could wait until later. He was the freshest, most rested mage on the wall, since he hadn’t been using his powers nearly as much as the rest. He’d been shooting canisters while they’d been reinforcing the Veil or igniting the apple brandy.

But how?

Chances are Pebble understands magic instinctively, though it is limited in what it knows how to do. But I have those skills that it doesn’t. So he did what Pebble wanted. He pushed.

He felt Jonaton, exhausted but grimly determined, join him in the moment. Then Ceri. Then Venidel. Then, from underground, to his delight, was Isla, her power joining his power like hand joining hand, and with the power came belief in himself that he sorely lacked at the moment. Then, in a ragged chorus of there is only this moment, all of the rest of the mages still standing were united.

As obedient to their will as if they had erected it themselves, the Veil began to expand.

Almost immediately, it contacted the Forest.

The Forest made no sound, but it certainly reacted immediately. It pulled away from the Veil, bunching itself up more. Kordas was looked to within the trance as their leader, regardless of rank, and he gladly assumed control of them all. He shoved harder, Pebble feeding him so much power that he became lost in it, lost to everything except the inexorable advance of the Veil and the slow retreat of the Forest and the sweet song of magic in his veins. It felt good. Even though on the outside, everyone was scorched, bloodied, soaked, and unsteady, in the trance, they were winning.

The Forest resisted for a dozen furlongs. Then, abruptly, it stopped retreating. It held for a dozen breaths. Kordas and the others scraped up a little more strength, and pushed.

Then, suddenly, the “head” of the Forest that had been facing them became the “tail.” In a reversal that almost put Kordas on his face, the Forest threw itself in the opposite direction from the Veil and the puny humans inside it.

Toward Pebble’s mother.

She screamed another challenge at the Forest. Still silent, it charged her. It was actually undulating up off of the ground, and looked for all the world like it meant to whipcrack her with its collective body.

“Help Mama!” Pebble cried, and Kordas allowed the Veil to snap back in place where it began, and became the conduit for Pebble’s power, since poor Pebble didn’t seem to know how to actually direct power, only how to make it.

He had to feed the mother now. This is going to hurt . . . He already skirted ruin by even tasting a Heartstone, and now he dared to channel it to—a major Elemental? How could connecting with something that massive, that strong, not hurt? To her, the mages were scarcely worth thinking about, surely. And she was an Elemental. They were not known for subtlety.

Comes down to it, Kordas thought, nobody’s going to remember me for my subtlety, either. So let’s do it. Clean, open-ended, and direct, please accept our handshake.

He braced himself for the fire, and reached out to her.

He found himself embraced by the gentlest of touches. A touch so gentle, it was child’s play to make a solid magical connection with her—and trivial to open himself up, to become a kind of human ley-line, and feed her not only Pebble’s magic but all of the magic of the ley-lines that fed the remnant Heartstone.

The Elemental sang a paean of triumph, and braced herself for the impact of the Forest.

On the walls, those who had been fending off lashing branches, launching kegs of brandy, and doing their best to add to the fiery mayhem slumped against the stone parapet, minds gone dull with exhaustion. Those mages who could do no more joined them, watching the battle with awe, dread, and a touch of hope. Only the weather mages were still in play, continuing to lash at the Forest with lightning conjured out of the clouds.